CANTO CXXVIII.: HANUMÁN'S STORY.

'In doubt and fear long years have passed
And glorious tidings come at last.
True, true is now the ancient verse
Which men in time of bliss rehearse:
Once only in a hundred years
Great joy to mortal men appears.
But now his woes and triumph tell,
And loss and gain as each befell.'
He ceased: Hanumán mighty-souled
The tale of Ráma's wanderings told
From that first day on which he stood
In the drear shade of Dandak wood.
He told how fierce Virádha fell;
He told of S'arabhanga's cell
Where Ráma saw with wondering eyes
Indra descended from the skies.
He told how Súrpanukhi came,
Her soul aglow with amorous flame,
And fled repulsed, with rage and tears,
Reft of her nose and severed ears.
He told how Ráma's might subdued
The giants' furious multitude;
How Khara with the troops he led
And Tris'iras and Dúshan bled:
How Ráma, tempted from his cot,
The golden deer pursued and shot,
And Rávan came and stole away
The Maithil queen his hapless prey,
When, as he fought, the dame to save,
His noble life Jatáyus gave:
How Ráma still the the search renewed,
The robber to his hold pursued,
Bridging the sea from shore to shore,
And found his queen to part no more. 1